


April Fools

by BellaLovesBooks



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaLovesBooks/pseuds/BellaLovesBooks
Summary: Baz uses April Fools as an excuse to get a little closer than usual to Simon. Things quickly spiral out of control (but is that such a bad thing?)





	1. Chapter 1

Simon:

Today, of all days, is the one that makes me regret being friends with Penny. As much as I love her, the glint in her eyes and the date on the calendar makes me want to run as far away as possible. 

"April fools," She announces, stirring her tea, "Is perhaps the greatest day on the calendar." I glance warily at her as I butter my scones. In Penny's house, she and her siblings are constantly pranking each other. She's a seasoned expert, and shows no mercy. Not even to her best friend.  
"As much as I want to agree with you Pen… I think it's pretty lousy compared to some other days." I say mildly, not wanting to do anything to earn her wrath. Not today. She snorts, rolling her eyes at me.  
"Come on, Si. What day could possibly be better than April fools?" She asks, crossing her legs. I shrug slightly, reaching for more butter.  
"Well… First day back at school is the first that comes to mind. It's just, April fools is always so tense. I never know where to look, where to step, you know?" I say, taking a large bite of my scone. It takes me a second to detect that something's wrong. She smirks, cackling as she watches me realise too late that I have been tricked. I spit the scone back onto the plate in disgust, gagging at the taste.

"Fuck, Penny! Really?" I exclaim, reaching for my cup. "Sultanas instead of cherries? That's just sinful. And disgusting. And really, did you have to put that much salt in the butter?" I asked, sculling my tea in an attempt to get rid of the taste. All I manage to do is scald my tongue. She only laughs louder, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.  
"Oh, Simon, your face! Priceless." She giggles. I glare at her, pushing my plate away.  
"Come on, Penny. I'm your best friend. Do I deserve that?" She nods emphatically.  
"Yes. It's payback for all the times you go on and on about Baz. It gets annoying, you know," She informs me, far too loudly considering he's at the table across from ours.  
"Penny, shush! Do you have to be so loud?" I hiss, but it's too late. He glances up at me, smirking and raising his brow simultaneously. I never understood how he's able to pull that off without looking like an idiot. He actually looks quite good doing it. Wanker. I glare at him, blushing to the tips of my ears.  
"Oopsie!" Penny laughs. "April fools." I turn my glare to her, but she just shrugs it off. It doesn't phase her, something she and Baz unfortunately have in common. I shake my head, standing up to leave. 

"No more pranks, Penny. I haven't planned anything for you, it's unfair." I tell her. She smiles sweetly.  
"It's not my fault you're underprepared. I'll bet Baz has something up his sleeve for you." I glare at her again. I really don't understand why she has to talk so loudly. 

 

Baz:

I wait three minutes after Snow leaves before standing to go. I nod at Dev and Niall, and stride back to our room. I don't know what I'm doing. I think I've gone crazy; Last year I would have rather flung myself into a raging fire before doing what I'm planning to do. But, it's eighth year. After this year, I probably won't ever see him again. True, it's because one of us will be dead, but I try not to dwell on that. 

Anyway, it's not like I'm actually going to kiss him. Just make him a little… Flustered. Confused.  
When I get back to the dorm, Snow is brushing his teeth. He always makes the most ridiculous faces in the mirror as he does it, and I trouble to not find it endearing.  
I gather my books, trying not to look like I'm waiting for him. Finally, I hear the tap turn off and the squeak of his shoes on the tiles.  
I turn around, pushing all rational thought away. I know this isn't going to end well for me, or for him if he decides to take a swing at me. But I've made up my mind. 

 

Simon:

Brushing my teeth helped a little. The horrible taste is still there, but it's much fainter now. Of all the pranks she could have chosen, she had to go for ruining my breakfast. Some friend. I walk out of the bathroom and nearly jump out of my skin when I see Baz gathering his books. I didn't hear him come in, in he's so bloody quiet. Bastard. He's looking at me funny, and I can't quite discern his expression- It's not his usual one of anger or distaste, or cold blankness that he wore so often. Then he smirks at me, tilting his head back slightly and biting his lip. Not it an 'I'm laughing at your idiocy' kind of way, the usual way. More in a… 'I'm sexy and you know it and I know you know it" kind of way. The way he sometimes looked at Agatha before we broke up. He doesn't look at her like that anymore. Idiot. I wonder if she dumped me because I never looked at her like that. I'd probably look stupid if I tried, anyway.

He's slowly sauntering towards me, not breaking eye contact. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. Why is he looking at me like that? My heart rate increases slightly, and I realised I've backed myself up against the wall. I'm nervous; he wouldn't attack me in our room, would he? Anathema and all that.  
"Baz?" I ask uncertainly. He stops right in front of me, so close l can feel his warm breath on my cheek. I don't know why I don't just move. Really, I don't think I can; Not with the way he's looking at me. I'm paralysed. His eyes burn into mine, all heat and intensity and I can't rip my gaze away. He doesn't say anything. I open my mouth to question him but he leans forward slightly, stretching his arm so that his hand rests on the wall right next to my head. I swallow noisily, looking up at him. He's always been taller than me, and I've always hated it. A strand of hair falls into his eyes, but he makes no move to brush it away- I have to resist the urge to do so. What is he doing?

"Anathema." I whisper croakily, feeling the need to remind him. Some how, the close proximity has left me nearly speechless. He smirks wider, tilting his face down slightly so that his hair brushes my cheek. I shiver slightly, watching him uncertainly. His other hand comes up, and I flinch away, expecting him to hit me. But he just… Strokes my face. Gently down my cheek with the back of his hand, before cupping my neck. I don't understand what he's doing, or why it's leaving goose bumps on my skin. We’ve never stood so close before without some kind of violence ensuing. Surly he's about to hit me? But no. Anathema. He wouldn't risk getting kicked out of the school. 

Right now, he looks different to how I've always seen him. His smirk softens, his expression fading to something I've never seen before. Something intense, breath-taking. His lips are parted slightly, and I pray he doesn't notice the way my eyes jump down and up again. I swallow, and his eyes break from mine to follow the movement before staring back into mine. I look at him, really look at him, with out anger or fear or resentment. He's breathtaking, and I think I blush as the words swirl around my mind. I mean, Baz has always been gorgeous. I'm not blind. But it seems to only really be hitting me now, the edge to his jaw, the soft curve of his neck and the depth to his eyes. He looks better when he's not sneering at me. He's a masterpiece. He's beautiful.  
We're both completely still, barely breathing (Does he even need to breath?). This is all so strange, so different. I don't know what to do in this situation. Did Penny drug my tea with something that's making me hallucinate?

Baz is looking at me… tenderly, somehow. Intently. And it's messing with my head (and my heart for some reason.) His tongue slowly slides across his bottom lip, and I can't stop my eyes from trailing the movement. He leans forward slightly.  
Oh, god.  
Is he…  
Is he going to kiss me?

 

Baz:

I swear, I only meant to slowly lean in and whisper 'April fools' in his ear, like a bloody drama queen. Just to let him feel my breath on his cheek. Just to confuse him a little. Of course my body would betray me.

I can't believe he's even let me get this close. I think I only managed to convince myself to do this because I didn't think he'd even let me. But, here he his, just staring up at me, wide-eyed. He doesn't look angry, or scared. More… Confused. And a bit of something else. His eyes are wide and staring right into mine, a dull but endless blue. He stopped protesting as soon as I touched his face (and oh, how that will haunt and bless my dreams from now on.)  
I want to tell him everything, I want to ask him everything. I don't; that would be almost as stupid as what I'm doing now. His eyes follow my tongue as it traces my bottom lip, and I hear his breath catch. I shouldn't allow myself to keep doing this; I'm only torturing myself, and making Simon thing I'm a sadistic imbecile. Nice to know some things never change.

But he's here, now, and he seems to be frozen at the moment. I'm not going to kiss him, though I want to (so, so bad.) I'm just trying to show him… It doesn't always have to be violent between us. I think he secretly hates fighting. I wonder if he knows I hate it too? This isn't what he wants instead, though. I prepare myself to pull my hands away, to laugh and lean in and spoil this with a little 'April fools.' I sigh and let my hand fall from his neck, ghosting down his shoulder and arm. I lean forward, parting my lips to speak.  
His eyes flash with something, but before I can decide exactly what he leans forward, tilting his chin up and-  
And-

And then he kisses me.

 

 

Simon:

I don't know what I'm doing. But the way Baz is looking at me, how his hands burn my skin… It makes my heart race and my skin tingle in a way that it never did with Agatha. And being this close to him… It feels strangely right. Like it was always meant to be like this, never any of that fighting crap.  
He leans in, and without thinking I kiss him.

 

 

Baz:

I can't think. I don't want to.

 

 

Simon:

At first, he seems shocked. Maybe he expected a punch, or angry words. I don't know why he's doing this, why I'm doing this, but I want to show him that it doesn't have to always be so violent between us. 

Maybe… Maybe this is better?

 

 

Baz:

Simon is kissing me, and everywhere he touches is fire. I can feel his hands trembling in my hair, his warm lips against mine and I can't think, it's too much. He's too much, and I'm going to explode with emotion and shock and whatever else is rushing around inside of me.

His tongue slides along my lower lip, and I realise that Simon Snow is kissing, me, actually kissing me, and I'm standing frozen as a statue. I have no idea why he's doing this, but I may as well enjoy it whilst it lasts.

 

 

Simon:

His arms suddenly wrap around my waist, pulling me into him and I feel my breath hitch. My scalded tongue burns slightly, but his mouth is cool and persistent and is making me see stars. His tongue runs along my lips, and I let them fall open with a small sigh. I don't know if this is what I want, or even what he wants but I do know that it feels so right, so good. His hair his soft and slips easily through my fingers. I can smell his fancy cologne, and it's intoxicating. In a good way, I guess. The scent always reminds me of him, in any case.

His hands wander up and down my back, sneaking beneath my shirt and making me shiver. I push my mouth closer into his, tilting my chin up slightly and running my tongue along his. He makes a low noise in his throat that makes my heart beat frantically. I hope I'm doing this right; Agatha and I never kissed like this. Our kisses seemed robotic, boring, but this is so much more. I feel as though I'm on fire, burning and burning and burning from the inside and maybe it's because it's Baz. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, who can control fire. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, my... enemy.  
My enemy who hates me.

I pull back, gasping, staring at him. I'm trying to form words but really, I don't know what to say.

 

Baz:

I don't know how Simon learnt to kiss like that. Maybe from Wellbelove, though I have no idea how she'd know. He's staring at me, pupils blown, panting slightly. He's doing that thing with his mouth where he's trying to form sentences but hasn't decided on the words yet, which usually I find endearing but right now is making me nervous and impatient. I think he's forgotten that his arms are still around my neck, but heck if I'd be the one to tell him; I've never felt so warm. I stare down at him, trying to control my breathing and the smile that's aching to break free. I work my face into an impassive mask. I honestly don't know how to proceed from here, what to say. The ball is in his court. I'm waiting for him to make the first move. He sets his jaw, tilting his head quizzically.

"What the fuck, Pitch?" He says, but I can't tell if he's angry or bemused. Maybe both? 

And then it all rushes to me, what I did, what he did, what actually happened. I panic. And sneer at him, just like normal. 

Because whatever happened just then, he's going to hate me for it.

And I don't want to stick around to see his face twist from wonder to disgust.

 

Simon:

"April fools," he sneers, and something in me drops, breaks just a little. Before I can say anything he detangles himself from my arms, grabs his books and strides out the door. 

I sit down heavily on my bed. What just happened? And why the hell do I feel so disappointed? Sure, it was the best snog of my life, but it came from Baz. My nemesis. Am I really surprised it was just a prank? 

I shiver; I feel cold, now that he's not here. I don't even know what to think.

What the fuck just happened?


	2. Chapter 2

Baz:

Simon is nearly late for Greek- not that I care. He comes stumbling through the door just as his name is called, looking like he's just walked through an electric storm . His hair is a mess of knots and tangles, pushed back from his face and sticking up all over the place in an almost comical manner. He runs his fingers through it when he's deep in thought. I don't think he even knows he's doing it half the time.  
His eyes scan the room before landing on me, but I look away before we can make eye contact. I can feel his gaze boring into me, but I refuse to look at him; I don't want to see the look of judgement and disgust on his face. He flops into the empty seat next to Bunce, who immediately leans over and starts whispering furiously in his ear. I wonder if he's going to tell her; They tell each other everything, they're practically joined at the hip. But he just waves her off, ducking his head to scan the text book in front of him. Huh. She glances at me, expression full of suspicion. Of course she'd suspect I did something, that it's all my fault. Well, she's not wrong this time, I guess. Not that she needs to know that. I meet her gaze coolly, raising my brow as if I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with Snow. She just rolls her eyes and turns around, leaning over the book. I don't think I fool her, though. Whatever you say about Penelope Bunce, you have to admit she is smart.  
I can feel Snow's magic rolling off him in waves, and I see his hand clenched in a fist on his thigh. I really did get to him, but I don't know if that's flattering or worrying. His magic is seeping into my bones, making me feel charged with electricity- I think I could cast a sonnet if I really wanted to.  
I wonder if he'll manage to keep it together for the rest of the lesson.

 

Simon:  
I don't know how I manage to keep it together for the rest of the lesson. It took me a while to calm myself down, to pull back the magic simmering on my skin. I couldn't think; I still can't. Throughout the lesson I feel his gaze on me, or remember how his lips felt or how cool his skin was. It's almost unbearable.  
I don't know what to do.  
I mean, sure, it was an April fools prank, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. Are things going to be awkward as well as tense and passive-aggressive now? 

I don't even know what I'm feeling. I don't want to, really. All I know is, when I think about it, the twist in my stomach isn't... necessarily a bad one. The way my heart races, or the flush of my cheeks isn't from anger or hatred.  
I think…  
I think I enjoyed it.  
I don't know what to think about that.

 

Baz:  
Simon isn't at lunch, or dinner. Crowley, is this really because of me? Knowing him, he'll be starving. Good.  
I internally curse myself for feeding so much last night. Every time I think about how warm he was, how his hands tugged at my hair, I feel my cheeks begin to burn. So I imagine pushing him down the stairs until it goes away. 

This was never supposed to happen. I just wanted to irritate him, confuse him a little. I never meant for it to get so out of control, although I suppose it isn't entirely my fault; He is the one who kissed me first. I don't know how to feel about that. He can't have feelings for me, not the kind I want him to anyway, because I'd know. His face is an open book. It was probably just a natural reaction, a reflex, so I guess by that theory it really was my own fault. 

I feel jittery, electric. I need to get out and run, get my mind off everything. Trust coach to cancel training today, of all days, wet weather be damned.

I sigh, pushing the food around my plate. I don't actually eat it; My fangs pop when I eat, it's noticeable. I usually just take a plate up to the dorm or catacombs and eat it there, when Snow is at the library with Bunce. I grab a couple more rolls and hoist myself to my feet, trudging back to the dorms. If I eat quickly, I'll have time to slip away to the catacombs before Snow gets back. 

I don't know what to do when I see him; Do I apologise? Pretend it never happened? Tease him mercilessly about it? I think avoiding him would be best, at least for now. If only luck would have it that way.

 

Simon:  
How hard is it to avoid a guy? Baz is meant to be at football training for at least another hour. I figured I'd slip out to the library before he came back, and pass the time until then by reading the book Penny forced into my hands a while ago whilst eating chocolate on my bed. I even skipped dinner in a cowardly attempt to avoid him, and now my stomach is howling like a Were.  
He looks surprised to see me. I don't know why, considering he's the one that's meant to be at football practise. He hovers at the door, clutching a plate of steaming food and his bag of books. I see the fight or flight reaction flicker behind his eyes for a brief moment, before his faces smooths over and he sneers.  
"What are you doing here?" He asks, dumping his stuff on his bed. He's facing away from me, which I guess is good. I can't see his face without thinking about… About this morning.  
"I live here, idiot." I say, then internally wince. Are we still enemies? Is insulting him too much? It's not as if he was perfectly civil, though. I run a hand through my hair, exasperated and unsure as to what the hell I'm meant to do now. He doesn't say anything. I can smell his dinner from here, roast beef and bread rolls. My mouth waters. I sigh and sit up noisily, watching him for a reaction, my eyes trailing along his shoulders. He continues as if I don't exist, and I wonder if he's taking so long on purpose. Maybe… Could he be nervous too? It's hard to tell. The bloody tosser's face is unreadable.  
I clear my throat awkwardly. "Um… Baz?" I ask tentatively. I don't really know what to say. He turns, raising a brow in answer. I have to look away, feeling the flush working its way up my neck.  
"Um, I think… Maybe we should talk? About this morning?" I say quietly, but it comes out more like a question. He stares at me wordlessly for a moment before letting out a long breath from between his teeth.

 

Baz:  
"Why?" I ask. As if I don't know. He looks terrified, and his cheeks are turning bright red. If it weren't under these circumstances, I'd find it hilarious. Or endearing. But really, I can't remember being this terrified in my life. Every insult, every act of violence, every sneer and glare for the past 7 years have been to protect myself from this moment. Every day, it gets harder and harder. I just want to tell him. I want to stop this, stop all of this, go back in time and do it all again.  
But I can't, I can't do any of that.  
He's watching me, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. I bet he's doing it on purpose, because it's driving me crazy.  
"Baz," He starts again. He's very rarely this quiet. He's always been a loud person, when he's talking or laughing or banging around at ungodly hours of the morning. Quiet is strange, for him. I don't like it.  
I can hardly look at him, not with the afternoon light spilling over his skin, not with the way he's looking at me. Scared, but determined, unsure and something else I can't quite place.  
"Baz." He says, more forcefully this time, and I sneer at him.  
"Fine." I spit, sitting down on my bed with my back resting against the wall. He mirrors my position, the bed creaking slightly as he shifts. Neither of us speak, and I realise that he's waiting for me to say something first. Well, good luck with that. He wants to talk, he can talk. I have nothing to say but lies. Finally he huffs and leans forward, staring at me intently.  
"Baz… Why did you do what you did this morning?" He asks. He's nervous, I can smell it from here. I smirk like it's obvious.  
"I already told you. It was a prank. I wanted to confuse you, ruffle your feathers a little. All part of the plan. It worked, by the looks of things. Your magic has been like static all day" I tell him easily, my voice so sincere even I am a little convinced. I lean forward to match his position. "Why did you kiss me back?" He blinks and shrugs.  
"I guess… I wanted to." He says it like it's no big deal. I don't know how to process this, I don't understand what he's saying, why he's saying it. I must look confused, because he rushes to continue.  
"I mean… You were right there, you know? You were so close. There's been something on my mind for a bit and I thought that… Doing that, kissing you, might help me to decide…" He trails off lamely.  
"What do you mean, might help you to decide?" I ask, trying not to sound too curious. He huffs and runs a hand through his hair.  
"I'm not going to tell you. You'll tell everyone, hold it against me and all that." I lower my brows, looking thoughtfully at him.  
"If it's really that big of a deal, I won't tell anyone. I swear. Unless it's a way to defeat the mage or something, your secret is safe." I tell him. He has good reason not to trust me, and I know I wouldn't trust him with anything either. But I wish it didn't have to be that way. He sighs, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes and wetting his lips.  
"Stuff it." He growls, leaning back and looking anywhere but me. "For a little while, I've been thinking… I might, I don't know. This is harder than I thought." He says, and the scent of nervousness grows stronger. "The thing is, I think I might like guys. A bit. I don't know. But kissing you helped me realise that yeah, I do, so I guess I should say thank you because the whole thing has been giving me a head-ache for weeks. And I'm sorry if that makes it weird between us, but please don't tell any one because I haven't even told Penny yet-"

 

Simon:  
"Snow." He interrupts, and I'm afraid I overdid it. I shouldn't have trusted Baz, I shouldn't've told him-  
"It's alright. I'm not going to tell anyone, and I'm not going to judge you or tease you or anything. It's fine." He says, and there's something odd in his voice. I blink in surprise. I didn't expect him to be so… Cool with it, I guess.  
"You're not?" I ask. I'm having trouble believing him, if I'm honest. He's not looking at me, and I allow myself to stare at him just for a moment. It's weird, but I feel a bit better now that I've told someone. Even if it is Baz. And I'm grateful, if a little surprised, for what he said.  
"No." He says quietly. "It would be… Hypocritical of me." It takes me a moment to realise what he said.  
"Wait… Are you gay?" I ask, and then flush. It's not my place to ask him that, even if I just trusted him. We're still enemies, and I'm surprised we've gone this long without sniping at each other yet.  
"I mean… You don't have to tell me, it's not my business. But if you did want to tell me something I wouldn't tell anyone, not even Penny." I say in a rush, and I feel my blush spreading to my neck. He gives me a look out of the corner of his eye, but it isn't his usual one of aggression or disdain.  
"It's ok, Snow. I'm gay, but… I just don't want anyone to know, alright?" He says, and I nod emphatically.  
"Yes, of course. I won't tell anyone, so long as you don't tell anyone about me." It seems like a fair deal to me. He nods.  
"Agreed." I hold my hand out on an impulse, and he gives me an amused look before shaking it. 

 

Baz:  
It feels different, now. I can't believe I just told Snow I'm gay. I can't believe he just told me the same. There's almost a feeling of… Not quite friendship, but not quite animosity either between us now. I know it won't last until morning, but it's nice. Fighting is so exhausting, and I just don't have the energy to say anything cutting tonight.  
There's a bit of an awkward pause. Neither of us quite know what to say. He looks lost in thought, staring out the window and glancing at me quickly when he thinks I'm not looking. I look at my plate. I don't really want to eat with Snow here; I don't want him to see my fangs. I bet Snow is hungry though, I haven't actually seen him eat all day apart from the one bite of April fools scone this morning. I don't think that quite counts. I can hear his stomach rumbling from here, so loud it's almost ridiculous. Snow always arrives at the start of each year looking pinched and underfed. I don't know if that makes me more sad or angry. Maybe both. It does explain his colossal appetite though, and I can imagine that whilst he's used to missing meals, he's definitely not enjoying it.  
"Have you eaten today?" I ask suddenly, and it comes out too loud, too sudden. I'm not good at the whole being nice thing. He shrugs.  
"A bit. I admit, I was avoiding you at lunch and dinner, but I have a secret stash of mint aero bars that kept me going- not that you need to know that." He adds hastily. Idiot. Of course I know that, I steal one whenever I'm hungry- I stole one just a couple hours ago, just to remind myself that I was still his enemy. Plus, I was hungry. They're too easy to sniff out, it's a miracle that he hasn't noticed yet.  
"I brought more food than I feel like eating. Do you want some?" I ask. Of course he does. His eyes light up and he grins so brightly I have to avert my eyes.  
"Sure, Baz. Thanks." Before I can hand him the plate, he's up and sitting next to me. On my bed. On my side of the room. I can feel his cross rattling in my jaw, a constant vibration against my throat. I stare at him and he rolls his eyes in a way that makes me think he's trying to imitate me.  
"What? Aren't we on some kind of truce?" He says innocently. I wonder if he knows what the heat of his arm against my skin is doing to me.  
"We never said anything about a truce." I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. He shifts so his back is leaning against the wall, somehow bringing him closer to my side. I suppress a small shiver.  
"We shook hands, and you've offered to share your food. That seems like a truce to me." He says, like he's being perfectly reasonable.  
"But why do we have to be on my bed?" I ask, trying not to sound like I'm whining. He looks at me like it's obvious and I'm being a complete idiot.  
"Because. Your bed is comfier, you made sure to get here before me in first year so you could bags the better one." He says, and I glare at him. Wanker. He's right, of course. Not that he needs to know that.  
"You're an idiot." I tell him, but it comes out much more affectionately than I ever would have intended. I'll have to watch that, make sure it doesn't happen again. He grins.  
"Yes. A hungry idiot. Let's eat." He says, and I can't help but smile when he isn't looking.

 

Simon:  
I probably shouldn't be accepting food from Baz. We're still enemies, he might have poisoned it. But honestly, I'm too hungry to care right now. I can't believe what happened. Maybe I'm dreaming? But even in my dreams, Watford roast beef doesn't taste this good. Baz has handed me the fork, and is spinning a spoon around his fingers. I can't understand how he manages to do everything so gracefully, it irritates me a little. I think he just does it to show off half the time. The rolls are still warm, and he even brought a tiny slab of butter. Eating in the dorms is so much better than eating in the dining hall. Or maybe it's because I'm eating with Baz pressed against my side. Not that he's actually eating.  
"Aren't you hungry?" I ask around a mouthful of bread. He sneers at me, but his eyes are too soft to make the gesture really get on my nerves.  
"No, Snow. Your atrocious manners have destroyed my appetite." He says, but he sounds more amused than irritated. I shrug.  
"Suit yourself." I swallow. I wish I could freeze this moment. Leaning against Baz's arm on his (definitely more comfortable) bed. Watford roast beef. And a peaceful sense of security, almost. Of all the people I'd feel safe with, Baz is definitely the last. But I can't shake the feeling that something has changed, at least a little. It's not friendship, not quite, but it's not fighting either. And that's all I've ever wanted. 

 

Baz:  
Snow is incredibly warm (he always is; I don't know if it's because of my vampirism, or because he just runs hotter than most people.) He's pressed into my side, and I can feel the muscles in his arm as he eats.  
This entire situation is surreal; It feels different now, between us. Almost… Almost like friendship. At least, a mutual civility. And it's so, so much better than fighting.  
I wonder if we can be friends. It would be nice. Although, if this kind of thing happens more often I don't think I could handle it; The close proximity is driving me mad, his skin on mine…  
I can't have a repeat of this morning. Snow is far too gullible if he believed that it was just a bloody prank. I won't be so lucky in convincing him again.  
I can't help but watching him eat. It's reassuring, in a way, to know that he's being fed. Plus, he has the most intense look of concentration as he eats; it's endearing. I allow myself to smile, allowing my face to relax from it's mask just for a moment.

 

Simon:  
I can feel him watching me. I glance up, and he's smiling a little. He quickly smooths over his face when he sees me looking, but I smile at him anyway.  
"What are you smiling at?" I ask, and he glares at me slightly.  
"Nothing. You have food on your face, that's all. Your lack of manners is both annoying and funny." He says defensively, and I roll my eyes (It took me ages to learn- I've been trying since first year, when Baz would do it to me all the time.)  
I reach up and brush at my face, trying to wipe away whatever crumbs are there. He presses his lips together and looks at me like he's trying not to laugh.  
"Just there, you numpty." He says softly, and brushes his fingers along my chin. I shiver slightly at his touch; I'm not used to him touching me in a non-aggressive way, a tender way even.  
His face is unreadable, but something's changed- The atmosphere is different, quieter. More intense. He moistens his lower lip, and I can't help but glance down and up again. I lean the tiniest bit towards him without even realising. the plate of food lies forgotten on my lap.  
I think I want to kiss him again. The thought, the want scares me a little, but also makes me feel… I don't know. Nervous? Excited?  
His face is stone, but his eyes look the slightest bit scared. I wonder, if I were to kiss him, would he want me to? I know this morning was just a prank, but…"

 

Baz:  
Simon is looking at me with a gaze I nearly can't meet. He looks so intense, yet so nervous. He bites his lip and leans forward slightly. I can't move. As if on it's own, his hand flutters forward and rests lightly on my shoulder. He looks at me with uncertainty from underneath his lashes, and still I can't bring myself to move. My heart is thudding wildly, and my lips part without my telling them to. He leans a little closer, looking at me as if in permission. I'm utterly and completely frozen.  
Suddenly, his brow creases and he breathes deeply through his nose.  
"Is that… Baz, did you eat one of my mint aero bars?" He accuses. He looks so indignant, and my nerves are still running high. I start laughing, trying to stifle it behind my hand. He must have smelt it on my breath. He looks mad, but but his eyes are sparkling in humour.  
"Baz! Come on, they were mine!" He cries, but it only makes me laugh more. I haven't laughed in so, so long. I feel stupid, but I honestly can't stop.  
"Simon, you always put them in the most obvious hiding places! It was like you were asking for me to steal them." I say, and he starts laughing too. I love Snow's laugh. It's impossibly loud and contagious, great peals of it that make him shake wildly and crinkle his tear-filled eyes.  
"I thought I was being so sneaky! I can't believe it." He groans and falls back onto my bed, flinging an arm across his face. And I thought I was the drama queen. It'll probably smell like him now. I don't know if that will be a good or a bad thing.  
"Snow. You are the least sneaky person I have ever met." I tell him, and he glances at me from beneath his arm.  
"Oh yeah?" He asks, and I should have known he'd take that as a challenge. He slowly sits up and looks at me from beneath his lashes, biting his lip and smirking ever so slightly. It's... Incredibly sexy, if I'm honest. He usually is.  
"What on Earth are you doing?" I try to sneer, but it's nervous and half-hearted. He's balanced on his knees and leaning forward on the bed, looking me straight in the eye. I think I can hear my heart thudding; He's so close. He reaches forward and brushes a strand of hair from my face, and any protest dies in my throat at the feel of his warm hand. He leans forward slightly and-  
Suddenly he's rocking back on his heels, crowing in victory. He holds my wand in the air between us (it feels like too much, too much space between us too suddenly) and waves it at me.  
"Snow! Give it back!" I yell, and I have to try hard to make myself sound angry. I think I fail. He just laughs, and he looks so beautiful I can't help but grin at him. This whole night has been weird.  
"I told you I'm sneaky. You didn't even notice me pick your pocket, you ass!" He cries. "I'm the sneakiest person in the whole universe!" He yells, but something is off. He speaks it with magic, and I can feel it tingling in my bones. There's a CRACK and suddenly-  
This boy will be the death of me, I swear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long- and for the cliff hanger. I can't be bothered writing more right now, so I hope you guys are up for an extra chapter soon! 
> 
> Also sorry for all the almost-kisses. Read the next chapter (when I actually write it haha) and you (hopefully) won't be disappointed.
> 
> And lastly and most importantly, thank you so, so much for all the beautiful comments. I know I haven't replied to any but just know I am so incredibly grateful, you all keep me going and each one makes me smile!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. Writing is hard
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is for Marlowe, because she found my account and loves to tease me about it
> 
> And also for Yvone for the same reason

Simon

As far as my history of accidental magic incidents go, this one is certainly… not my worst. It’s quite beautiful, if I'm honest. In an ethereal if not terrifying way. 

We're surrounded by stars, in every direction as far as the eye can see. It's breathtaking, so magnificent I feel dizzy. 

I can still feel the bed underneath me, can still breath as normal. I can still smell Baz, all expensive cologne and the chocolate bar he stole. (I wonder if he's found the one in my underwear draw. Even if he did, he's too proper to take it.) 

He's looking around in wonder. I've never seen him like this; Wide-eyed and relaxed, his face open. He's usually so careful to watch himself, keep his face blank and emotionless. 

Right now, I can read everything, and when he looks at me it's almost too much. He grins at me, really grins, and I feel my neck flush.

"Bloody hell, Snow. What have you done?" He asks, but he doesn't sound mad. More… fond, in a way. Like he's enjoying himself, even though he's still annoyed that I did accidental magic with his wand. I laugh nervously.

"I don't know… I think when I said the 'in the universe' bit I said it with magic, and now… Yeah. Universe." I mumble, craning my neck to look straight up. 

The sight makes my head spin and my eyes blur, and I lurch forward, my balance lost. I fall, of course, into Baz, and his hands grasp my shoulders. I'm breathless.

"Sorry," I mutter, terrified that my ears are red. Yesterday, this contact with Baz would have felt dangerous and tense. Now though… I feel the same stirring in my gut that I used to when Agatha held my hand or wrapped an arm around my waist back when we first started dating.

I don't know what that means, if it's dangerous or not. It feels dangerous, but… not in the way it would have yesterday. 

He pushes me lightly back, smiling softly. 

"It's alright, Snow. I was half expecting it, you're still as clumsy as ever." He teases, and I glare at him. 

"And you're still as annoying as ever, I see." He doesn't even retaliate, just grins lazily and quirks a brow. Ass.

 

Baz  
I feel drunk. I can feel Simons magic in every pore of my skin, in every bone of my body. It presses in on me from all directions, as if it's not coming from Snow but from everywhere around us. My thoughts are sluggish, my head pounding slightly. I feel as though I've lost control of myself, which would usually be frightening but seems fine, grand even, at the moment.

Lazily, I think that perhaps this is where magic comes from; The universe, the stars. Whatever. This, where we are now, feels exactly like Simon's magic, if it was both more and less controlled, and increased by a million. I can't understand how something can feel so structured and ordered and yet so unbelievably out of control. 

There are stars everywhere; Up around, even down. There are millions, billions, a countless infinity of infinities of them. I bet I would be able to see them reflected in Simon's eyes, if I dared to look. I don't.

He cranes his head right up, exposing his long neck and showy Adams apple. I'm relieved when the sight doesn't make my fangs pop, but take care not to look too close; It's been a while since I've fed.

He sways and blinks drowsily, somehow managing to fall from his knees into my chest. Automatically my hands reach out and cling to his shoulders, in a poor façade of holding him up. (It's the other way round. It always is. I never want to let go.)

I let go, pushing him gently away from me. I don't want to have another accident like this morning. (But I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy every moment of it.)

"Sorry," he mutters, the tips of his ears a light pink. His neck is flushed, and I have to grit my teeth; The scent of his blood so close to his skin is driving me mad.

"It's alright, Snow. I was half expecting it, you're still as clumsy as ever." I say, but it comes out less bitingly than I intended. I don't care. He glares pathetically at me.

"And you're still as annoying as ever." He speaks without malice, and it almost sounds like… teasing. Friendly teasing, just playful banter. I wonder if that means, even unconsciously, he thinks we could be friends. 

I don't reply (I don't know that if I try to tease him it won't sound like flirting), but I smirk at him. He rolls his eyes. 

We're quiet for a moment. It's not awkward, or empty, and I have no idea how long it lasts for. I'm… We're lost, for the time being, in this incredibly miniscule patch of space.

No matter how hard I strain my eyes, even my vampire-enhanced sight can't see a beginning or an end, just the infinity in between. I feel insignificantly small. 

It seems almost stupid, now. The humdrum, the war. Crowley, even my feelings for Simon. Back home, everything feels important and heavy. Here, I could almost forget it all. I certainly don't care about any of it, not right now. 

We're insignificant, too small from the point of view of the universe. None of it matters.

I almost laugh out loud. I've been obsessing over Snow for all this time, but never had the guts to tell him. And really, who would care if I did? Who would care if I didn't, for that matter? Sure, we may be a small part of magickal history after the war, but this… Us as people, as ourselves and not pawns in an army will be forgotten, lost with time. In a few short hundred years, no one will care about us.

So why care now?

I take a deep breath.

"Snow… Simon. There's something I need to tell you."

 

Simon

"Snow… Simon. There's something I need to tell you." He says. I glance at him. His face has gone lax, his eyes slightly hooded, and he sounds so… Unrestrained. Like he's an open book. It's weird. 

I don't know why I'm nervous; He's probably just going to tell me something about the war, or prattle off some scientific fact. But, I've never seen Baz like this, and it's slightly unnerving.

"Uh… Ok. What's up?" I ask, turning to face him properly. He's grinning lazily, and I wonder if I should be scared. He breathes deeply.

"I think I might be in love with you."

 

Baz

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just blinks stupidly. I can't even bring myself to worry about what he's thinking right now. I feel free, like I've just thrown a heavy jacket off my shoulders and left it behind in the dust.

"What?" He says, and I roll my eyes (Bad habit).

"I… I'm in love with you," I say quietly, but it's hesitant now. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He doesn't reply. I start to feel a tiny niggling of doubt, starting in the pit of my stomach and working it's way to claw at my throat. 

"Are you joking? Is this… Is this another April Fools prank like this morning?" He asks, eyes wide. I snort, then feel stupid. I don't snort, or laugh much for that matter. Snorting is Snow's thing. 

"You're an idiot." I tell him, and he glares at me. "This morning wasn't a prank. Well, it was, at the start. I didn't mean to kiss you. I guess I just wanted to see what would happen if I got into your personal space in a… peaceful way, for a change. Then it spun out of control and you were angry so I said the first thing that came to mind and bolted." I confess. 

A small part of me is screaming to shut up, to stop talking. Maybe this is just a dream, and I can wake up to Snow's obliviousness again and everything will be back to normal. Everything will be ok.

He tilts his head, looking at me in confusion.

"You thought I was angry?" He asks, puzzled. I don't know what to say. Suddenly, it seems too quiet, too open. I feel exposed. I still can't bring myself to look at him. My eyes are fixed on a constellation so bright that I still see it when I blink.

I jump a little when he awkwardly brushes my arm with his fingers. His way of trying to be reassuring, I suppose.

"I wasn't angry. Just a little shocked and confused. You know I'm not… I'm bad with words. Sorry if I sounded angry." He says lamely. I smile at him, a proper smile, not a smirk or one of those loopy grins from before. 

I'm still regretting telling him. But the fact that he wasn't mad is one small solace, at least.

 

Simon

I think I'm in shock. Maybe I'm dreaming? I don't know if I can trust Baz to tell the truth. For all I know, he's pulling another prank like this morning, to make fun of me or shake me up or something. I think I want to believe it, though. 

If he is telling the truth, it would create a whole lot of new questions, more problems. But, if he is telling the truth… It would be so much better than fighting. 

He said he's in love with me.

 

Baz

Neither of us speak; I'm too nervous, and he seems to be deep in thought. He runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration. I wonder what he's thinking. 

I wonder if he'll even believe me. I think I'd be able to get away with telling him it was another prank. I probably should. If he believed me, this would just create more problems than we had before. 

He looks at me, looks away. Looks at me again. He purses his lips slightly (I have to look away) and sits forward slightly.

"Baz…" He starts, then pauses. I don't say anything. I don't think I could, even if I tried. 

"Are you… You're telling the truth?" He asks carefully. 

I don't know what to say.

 

Simon

He doesn't look at me. He's staring intently just above my right shoulder, eyes slightly unfocused, jaw tense. I can't tell what he's thinking anymore. 

"Baz?" I prompt. He glances at me, and I hold his gaze with my own. I don't know what to do.

I don't know what I want him to say, that he loves me, that he's joking. If he does love me though, how come he always acted like the opposite? How come he never tried to even be my friend? Surly, he must be lying. 

I open my mouth to ask him, but before I can speak he drops his head and groans, running a hand through his hair.

 

Baz

It's like a floodgate opened inside me. The words just spill out of me, almost as fast as I can think them. I've given up control, given up my dignity. It's just us, the stars and the truth.

"I… Yes, yes I love you, of course I love you. For so long now, and god, you don't know how hard it's been. I've acted like I hated you since day one, said and done things to hurt you on purpose…"

"Pushing me down the stairs." He murmurs thoughtfully, and I laugh wildly.

"No, that one was an accident. But the rest, that was on purpose. I could see how much it hurt you, but did that stop me?"

I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm myself. I'm getting out of control.

"I did what I had to do to hide my… feelings from you. And I regret everything I've done, but it was necessary. I had to do it, for both of our sakes. And, I know that saying sorry won't change anything, but I am. I'm sorry for treating you the way I did, and for all the things I said. None of it was true."

He looks at me thoughtfully, looking a little lost.

"But… Why did you always flirt with Agatha?" He asks, tapping my wand absentmindedly against his thigh. 

"Agatha." I snort. "You were always too good for her, you know. I hated seeing you two together, the way she could make you laugh and blush, the way you held hands everywhere you went. I couldn't do that with you, no matter how much I wanted to. Flirting with her… I don't know. I liked seeing you jealous, even though it wasn't over me. And it made me so mad, the way she'd flirt right back. You deserve better than that. I always wanted to tell you, but it's not really a conversation you'd have with your nemesis."

He smiles slightly, shaking his head.

"You've got a bit of an ego, if you think you're my nemesis. That's the humdrum. Until today, you were just my room mate who happened to hate me, and who I'd probably have to fight one day. But you were never my nemesis."

I laugh shakily. He's right, he's bloody well right. I'm exhausted.

"Baz… I forgive you. For all of it, the chimera, the fights. All of it. I understand why you did it. And even though it wasn't the best method, I can't blame you for what you did. I'm sorry that you felt you had to hide all that from me."

I shake my head wearily. He's forgiving me. He's apologising. Of course he would, the noble bastard. I love him for it.

"Thank you for that. You shouldn't forgive me, though. I'll never forgive myself for what I did. You shouldn't either." Tell him, and he glares at me like he's mad.

"It's in the past, Baz. Obsessing over it and moping around isn't going to change it, or make it better. It's what happens here on that counts. Fuck the past." 

He's looking right at me, and I force myself to look him in the eye. He looks fierce and earnest, glaring slightly with his chin jutting forward. He's all of my most beautiful dreams and worst nightmares, and I can't seem to look away.

 

Simon

He seems speechless, his eyes shining slightly. I can't tell what I'm feeling. It's practically every emotion spinning around in a hurricane. Confusion, protectiveness, shock, happiness. 

I want this. I want to try… Something with Baz. A relationship, if he'd let me. Seeing him like this, hearing what he had to say, made everything hit me at once. I don't hate Baz, far from it. Sure, he's a pompous jerk at times, and up until today I thought he hated me. But I know, that if things had been different from day one, I'd still want this. And I would have realised it earlier.

I don't know what to say. I don't know how I can express that in words, when my thoughts are barely stringed-together sentences. So I do the best I can.

I lean forward, resting on my knees, and kiss him. Just a feather light touch of my lips on his before I pull away, but even then he's gasping, looking at me with wide eyes.

"I want this. With you. And this is all very knew, and there's some stuff I'm still figuring out, but I want to try. I have feelings for you, and I want to… I want to try and be… With you. Like a couple. If you want." I stammer. I'm no good with words, but I think he gets what I'm trying to say. 

He grins at me, looking happier and more vulnerable than I've ever seen him in my life. He doesn't bother talking, but reaches to shakily cup my neck. 

This time when we kiss, it isn't messy or desperate like this morning. Not at first. He kisses me gently, tentatively, as if he's afraid I'll change my mind. (Never. I never want this to end.) His hand comes up to mirror the other resting on my neck, brushing a curl from my face. I wrap an arm around his waist and run the other through his hair (because I've always wanted to. And now I can). Crowley, we've been so stupid. Spending all that time fighting when we could be doing this. He runs his tongue along mine and leans further into me, running his hands down my shoulders, my chest, to rest on my hips. I wonder if he can hear my heart beating. It's so loud, so frequent I can almost hear it myself. I wonder, if I rested my hand over his heart, would I be able to feel it? I'm too scared to try, but instead tug at his hair slightly. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me so I'm almost in his lap, and his tongue grazes the roof of my mouth. 

I've never been kissed like this before. Agatha would kiss me like it was an obligation, or just something to do to kill boredom. Baz kisses me like he wants to, like he's trying to memorise the shape of my mouth and the contours of my body before he wakes up from a dream. He kisses me like he's both leading and following me , giving and taking simultaneously. 

He breaks away to kiss my neck, my collarbones, my cheeks, my eyelids, back to my neck. I'm not afraid that he'll bite me. I trust him. 

 

Baz

I'm kissing Simon Snow, and I'm not sure this isn't a dream. Surly, it has to be. The stars all around us, Simon pulling at my hair and whispering my name… Those things don't just happen in real life. I wouldn't deserve it if they did.

I don't know what I'm doing but I try to imitate what he does, what he did this morning. Moving my lips in sync with his, pushing into him and breaking away so he has to chase my mouth. I run my tongue along his and he sighs, ghosting his hand down my back. I feel alive. When he cradles my face or sings my name under his breath, when he smiles at me before kissing me again and again, I feel a little less of a monster. I almost feel human, or close enough anyway. I press my lips against his neck, and though I can smell the blood beneath his skin I am still under control; It doesn't affect me.

He must have taken off his cross. The familiar buzzing in my jaw is gone, and when I skim my lips along his collarbones I still can't feel it. I kiss his face, run my hands along his body, because I want to memorise him this way before I wake up; The way he groans as I kiss his neck more forcefully, the way he holds me like I'm special. The way he runs a hand through my hair without even realising it, and sighs my name into my mouth when I kiss him. 

I never want to wake up.


	4. Chapter 4

Simon

I don't know how much time passes. It's all a mess of kissing and talking and quiet pauses where he just holds my hand and stares off into the distance at the stars, and then a little more kissing. It's crazy, it’s magical and I can't quite bring myself to believe that this is real. 

Baz Pitch, my enemy and tormentor since we were 11… Is my boyfriend. I'm his boyfriend. We're, after all these years, in an actual relationship.

I can't stop smiling.

I can't quite believe it. If yesterday someone would have told me this was going to happen, I'd laugh right in their face. I almost laugh at myself now.

In all honesty, when I really think about it, I'm not that surprised. I think about him all the time. I worry when he's away, and am drawn to him when he's close. I can't seem to stop watching him. I told myself that it was self protection; that he was plotting against me, and I had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't try to off me in my sleep or something. It doesn't take an idiot to see that that kind of obsession goes beyond wariness or hatred. I don't quite know what to call it. 

I wonder if he'll admit to me that he's a vampire now. I'm not going to ask him about it, not yet. I want him to trust me enough to tell me himself.

I lean forward and brush my lips to his, stroking a curl of hair behind his ear. He hums gently against my mouth.

"What are you thinking about?" He whispers against my ear, and I shiver.

"That I'm an idiot, to have thought I hated you all this time." He looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess… I was only really acting like that because I thought you hated me. I never even allowed myself to consider that we could be anything but enemies. But looking back, I think… I mean…" I pause, searching for the right way to say what I'm thinking. He doesn't interrupt, just takes my hand and strokes my palm with his thumb.

"You know that I go into a care home in the summer holidays. Every time I go back, I have a list. Of things I'm not allowed to think about, because they'd drive me bonkers if I did. Things like, you know, magic in general, Watford, Penny, Agatha, the Mage, sour cherry scones… And you." I admit. "And the thing is, you're the only thing that I ever had trouble not thinking about. I'd see someone with long, dark hair and think it was you until they turned around, or if I was really bored I'd wonder what you would be up to. But I didn't like, officially think about you until I was a couple hours away from Watford. And when I did, I would always think, 'maybe this year will be different. Maybe, this year we'll get along, become friends, you know.' And then, well, it wasn't, so I didn't even bother trying to change things. I should have. I wish I did." 

He's quiet, and I feel oddly embarrassed. I think that's the most I've ever said in front of anyone, except maybe Penny. It feels good to be able to tell him that.

"I should have shaken your hand the moment we first met." He murmurs, and I shrug.

"I should have made more of an effort to be your friend. I just gave up." I say. He shakes his head.

"I should have let you. I shouldn't have been such a coward." I sigh and let my forehead rest on his, closing my eyes.

"We've both been pretty stupid." He chuckles, tracing his fingertips up my arm and leaving a trail of goose bumps.

"Well, you've always been quite thick." He says jokingly. I pull back and glare at him.

"Hey, I'm your boyfriend now. That means you have to be nice to me." He smirks. 

"Oh sorry, my mistake. Oh Simon, my beautiful boyfriend, the light of my life and apple of my eye, your intelligence is truly astounding, surpassing even my own." He says it sarcastically, but he's grinning from ear to ear. I laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"And don't you forget it." I warn him, and he laughs, covering his mouth with his hand in an oddly sweet gesture.

"I like it when you call me Simon." I tell him quietly, looking at him from beneath my lashes. He smiles softly.

"I like it when you call yourself my boyfriend." He replies, blushing softly, not quite meeting my eyes. We sit for a moment. I take his hand absentmindedly.

"Hey Baz, guess what." I say suddenly, and he quirks a brow. I notice the way his eyes soften when I say his name, the way his lips tighten slightly at the corners like he's trying not to smile. I look at the way his pale skin is illuminated in the starlight , the way his hair spills lazily to his collar. I grin.

"I'm your boyfriend." I tell him, and he just laughs.

"Well, thank god for that." He says, and pulls me into a kiss.

 

Baz  
I pull him into a kiss, just because I can. Because no matter how hard I try, I can never resist him. After all these years, I don't have to hold myself back anymore. I can hold his hand, kiss him, embrace him, talk to him. I don't have to hide anymore. 

He's not the first person that I've kissed, but he is the first boy.

Once, at the annual Christmas party my father insisted I go to, I kissed a girl called Lacy Delbridge. Because she kissed me first, and I just wanted to see. Just to make sure.

We were 14, and the champagne that my father had let me drink a little of had made me feel light and stupid. The party was loud, and we both wanted a break. We went outside to get some fresh air. 

We were sitting in the gardens, away from the party, talking about nothing. She was easy to talk to. I remember thinking that she was beautiful, but in the same sense that a painting or flower is beautiful. Her hair was brown and hung in waves down her back, and her eyes were a piercing blue. She had lent close to me, and I remember thinking that her eyes looked just like Snow's before she kissed me.

I was shocked at first. I'd never been kissed before, and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Looking back now, I realise that I used her. I didn't kiss her back because I particularly wanted to, I kissed her back as an experiment of sorts. I don't regret it. I kissed her desperately, hoping there was some small corner of me that was attracted to girls that I could discover by kissing her. Maybe, if there was, I could have dated Lacy and made both of our parents happy.  
It didn't work like that.

The kiss was ok, if a little clumsy, but it felt weirdly wrong. I had pulled away, and when she opened her eyes to look at me, the blue had reminded me startlingly of Snow. I thought of how it would feel to have him kiss me, to hold my hand, and that felt right. At least, it felt as though it would feel right.

And then I realised I had just made out with my father's friend's daughter as an experiment, and that immediately after I had fantasised about kissing someone who not only was a boy, but was supposed to be my enemy. I had apologised and left her there, sitting alone and confused in the cool night air.

I had cried bitterly that night. Not because I was definitely gay and there was nothing I could do to change that; in my heart, I had always known. But because I was falling for my room mate, my enemy, the boy who hated me. I cried because no matter how hard I tried, there was nothing I could do to change that.

 

Kissing him now, that feels right. When he whispers and groans my name against my lips, that feels right. When he kisses me deeply and breaks away so I have to chase his lips, that feels right. His neck, his body, his hair under my hands feels right. 

I don't know how I got so lucky.

 

Simon  
Eventually, I have to stop kissing him- not because I want to. I could do this all day. A familiar dry ache is gnawing at my insides, and I remember that I've barely eaten all day. My stomach growls pathetically, and Baz smirks at me.  
"Hungry?" He asks, and I nod in exasperation. "Lets go back and get you something to eat." I smile dreamily, thinking about the mint aero bar hidden in a loose panel beneath my bed, or the one taped to the underside of my desk.

"Good idea." He raises a brow at me, and I realise what he means.

"Oh right. How do we get back?" He shrugs.

"How should I know. It's your spell, it's not even a real one." He says it mildly, and without the usual biting sarcasm or disdain I think I can detect traces of admiration in his voice.

I think for a moment. "I guess we could try 'There's no place like home?' Or 'Home again, home again, jiggity jog?'" He shakes his head.

"If I tried, it would just take us back to my house, I think. I've never tried it." I take his hands, closing my eyes to help myself concentrate. I pray that my magic will behave. I feel so drunk on the power of this place that I don't even need to use his wand.  
"What are you doing?" He asks, but I just shush him.

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home." I cast, and the spectacular light, the trillions of stars all melt away and we're back in the dorm, sitting cross legged on my bed. It's night time now, well after curfew. A cool breeze wafts through the open window, making his hair flutter slightly. The air here feels oddly dead and still, a sharp comparison to what it had been earlier. It was like stepping from a room full of static into a room that was absolutely silent.

"We're back at Watford." Baz says quietly. I shrug. I know what he must be thinking; How pathetic, how sad that I don't have a real home to go to. I let go of his hands.

"So?" I ask, looking away.

"Watford's your home. That's… That's really nice." He says, the words slightly forced like it was difficult for him to say. He sounds like he's telling the truth.

"What do you mean?" I ask, curious. He ducks his head.

"My mum… I know that everyone said she made the school too over-exclusive, and that her rules were old fashioned and everything. They might be right, I've never thought about it. But I remember that she always told me that Watford was supposed to be like a home to the students. She always made sure that the students were happy, and if there was anything upsetting them she'd talk to them about it. I think… She'd be really pleased. That the spell takes you here, I mean." He says quietly, jaw clenching and unclenching. I take his hand.

"She sounds like she was lovely. I wish… I would have liked to meet her." I say, hoping that I'm saying the right thing. I'm useless with words. He smiles warmly at me.

"I wish you could have to. I think she would have liked you, apart from the whole… You know. War." We fall quiet. The word hangs heavy and lifeless between us, and I feel doubt begin to creep in.

"I want you to know… I never wanted any part in this war. And I don't want to fight you when the time comes, I never did." He says quietly. I nod.

"Same with me." There's a pause. 

"Are you going to tell your family?" I ask him. I don't know why, but I'm nervous. I wish we had this conversation before, when we were surrounded by stars and it felt like nothing could touch us.

"I don't know. Are you going to tell the mage?" He asks. I bite my lip.

"I… I'm not sure. Do you think we should?" He looks away, brow furrowed. 

"I think it might cause more harm than good." He murmurs. I lean forward, resting my chin on my fists.

"But they'll find out eventually, won't they? Word spreads around here like wildfire." He looks at me, waiting for me to understand without him having to explain. 

Oh.

"You want to date in secret." I say flatly. It isn't a question.

"I just think that for the time being, it would be wise to-"

"Fuck that, Baz!" I growl. I don't know why I'm so upset. It's like someone told me I won the lottery but just as the news sank in, told me that I couldn't tell anyone, couldn't spend any of it. "How do you expect me to act like I hate you now? You want to go around insulting each other all day, then guiltily make out when we're alone, praying that no-one will catch us?" He shakes his head.

"No, Simon. Crowley, you make it sound so-"

"Baz." I interrupt him. "I want to be your boyfriend. I want to hold your hand on our way to class, and sit together at meal times, and study together, and hang out like a normal couple does."

"Well I'm not normal, ok?" He explodes, standing up. He looks shocked at his outburst, but quickly smooths his face into a blank mask. I stand too, hating the three inches of difference now more than ever. "We're not normal. I'm a vampire who plays with fire, and you're the bloody chosen one and the mage's heir . We're enemies, ok? We're on different sides of a war. We're not normal, we can't be a normal couple. Don't you see?" His voice cracks, and he's tugging at his hair almost manically.

"No, we're not normal, I know that, god damn it, I know. But if you think for one minute we're still enemies in any sense of the word then you're crazy. We're not enemies and we never have been, you know that. I'm proud to be your boyfriend, and I want to show this off. I want people to know that you're mine, and I'm yours. Don't you?" I plead, my eyes glistening. 

 

Baz

God damn him. God damn all of it. Of course I want all of that, more than anything. 

"I do, Simon, I can't begin to tell you how much. But I'm just trying to be practical. There's a war, we can't just go and drop something like this." I take his hands, but he snatches them away. I try to hide how much this hurts.

 

"Fuck the war." He says coldly, and I can feel his magic rolling off of him in waves, making the air buzz. "We're only seventeen, can't we at least have this?" I don't think he's pleading with me at this point. He's not looking at me, turning away.

I feel a familiar rise of panic clawing at my throat, clenching my chest. My fangs feel ready to pop out at any moment. I can't lose him, lose this. I just can't.

"The mage would think that this is all part of some evil scheme, that I'm just doing this to hurt you or use you." I try to explain, but it only makes him more mad.

"And you think the families won't think the same about me? They've been looking for an excuse to start this war for ages, if they find out we're hooking up in secret they'll think I've put you under some trance to using you and use that as an excuse to attack." He mutters, refusing to look at me.

"Let's not make this about politics, please." I groan, and he looks at me in disbelief.

"You already did! You want to date in secret because of the war. Does that not sound like politics to you?" He says. I take a small step back and raise my hands to try and placate him, but he's past listening, magic turning the air to static. He steps closer, eyes glinting.

"Don't be such a coward, Baz." He growls. I falter, letting the emotion fall from my face until it's a blank mask. I should have known that even in a relationship, we'd still argue. And he'd still go for the lowest blow. I don't blame him. I shoulder past him towards the door.

"Baz, wait…" He sounds regretful, but I ignore him.

"I'll see you later, Snow." I say coldly, and let the door slam shut behind me. 

 

Simon

I'm shaken. We've only been officially together for a couple of hours, and already we've had an argument. I don't know what I expected.

I suppose I should feel guilty about calling him a coward, but I can't bring myself to, not yet. My magic is prickling almost painfully along my skin, and my vision is tinted slightly red. I sit on Baz's bed and do some of the breathing exercises that the Mage taught me. It's a while before I feel my magic begin to recede.

Now that he's gone, I can feel the questions that I've been ignoring gnawing at my mind. Does this mean I'm gay? I like Baz, a lot more that I should considering I thought I hated him yesterday. I like kissing him. I've never liked a boy before him though, and I dated Agatha for a long time. I don't know what that means.

Maybe Baz is right, maybe going public with our relationship is a bad idea. I don't like the idea of having to hide it though. He may be a good actor, but I'm certainly not. 

I wish he would come back. I want to apologise, for calling him a coward when he was just trying to protect us. I want to sneak into the kitchens to steal food, but my magic is too temperamental at the moment. 

I eat three mint aero bars, which don't fill me up but do make me feel sick. Baz's plate of food lies on his bedside table, cold and forgotten. I take a bite, but it's gross now. I lie back on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. I recall the kiss; the very first one, this morning, and all the ones after that. I smile slightly, despite everything.

 

Baz

Why do I ruin everything? He's probably going to come to his senses and break up with me, or realise that we're just too dysfunctional to be together. (I don't care) I scowl as I stalk across the fields to the catacombs, allowing my feet to take me wherever they want to go.

I end up at my mother's grave. Muscle memory, I guess. Snow's right, I am being a coward. Git. I've wanted this so long that I'm afraid sharing it will make it break. My father won't approve, and I doubt the mage will either, or the rest of the old families. It's Romeo and Juliet all over again. We're just pawns to them, there to win, not to love. They'll try to break us up. I don't think my father will even care all that much that I'm gay; it's the fact that I'm in a relationship with the boy I'm supposed to hate that's the issue. I realise that I don't really care; I'd take my fathers anger and disappointment for the rest of my life if I can be with Simon.

He's probably going to break up with me, after the mage finds out, and he should. Maybe I should do it, just so he doesn't have to. He's not so great with words. But I don't know what I would say. If it came down to it, I don't think I could. I'm too far gone. (I don't care)

He's going to break up with me eventually. I don't care. 

I don't.

It's inevitable that Simon Snow will break my heart. I know that. It's just a matter of how long we have before that happens. I kick the wall, relishing the shooting pain that arches up my body. 

I don't care. I kick it again. And again.

I kick it and hit it until my knuckles are cracked and bleeding and my toes are so bruised I think I'll have a limp for the next week and I'm crying but I don't care, I don't. I can't, caring is how you get hurt. It's a weakness. 

I abuse the wall until I don't have the energy left, exhausted both physically and mentally. I sit down, surrounded by dust and bones and let myself cry. 

He's going to break my heart, and I care too much.

I look at the framed pictures around her grave. They're always my favourite part about visiting her. I see one of us, me when I'm small and chubby and my skin is still a warm bronze like hers, before the vampires came. I'm beaming toothily, her arms around me.

I remember when my mother and I had a bad argument, she'd always bring me my favourite chocolate as a peace offering, and we'd eat it together whilst reading a book. I smile faintly at the memory.

There's another one, of me riding a bike and her cheering in the background. I remember that day so clearly, it could have been yesterday. 

She was teaching me how to ride a bike, and I was upset because I just couldn't get the hang of it. I had fallen off for the seventh time in a row and started crying, and she had rushed over immediately.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" She had asked, her voice soft. I shook my head, wiping a tear away and leaving a trail of dirt down my face.  
"What's wrong?" She asked as she helped me up.  
"I'm never going to be able to get it. I can't do it." I had said, ashamed. She had knelt down and looked at me sternly, wiping the dirt away.  
"Now you listen here, Tyrannus." She had said seriously. "If you tell yourself that you can't do it, then you've already failed. The reason you can't do it is because you're afraid that you'll fall off and hurt yourself. Remember, life is always going to have a little bit of hurt in it. But you have to be brave. Don't be afraid of the hurt, that will only make it hurt more." It only took three more tries before I got it.

The memory of her words seemed to echo through the halls, almost like a whisper on the wind. It was stupid to think that the photo, the memory was a sign. But somehow, I couldn't help but feel a little stronger, a little more determined.

I wasn't going to give up on Simon. And I'd do my best to make sure he didn't give up on me.

 

Simon

I think I must have fallen asleep, but I swear I only closed my eyes for a second.

It takes me a groggy moment to figure out what woke me, before I blink the sleep away and see that Baz has come back. And he has food.

"Hey" He says softly. "I brought you some food… Figured you might me hungry. Sorry I woke you." I sit up, stretching my neck so it makes a satisfying pop.

"No problem. Thanks for the food." I say gruffly. He approaches me almost cautiously, handing me a plate of pre-buttered sour cherry scones. My mouth waters.

He hovers for a moment before sitting awkwardly next to me. Our arms don't touch, and he doesn't look at me as I eat. 

"I'm sorry." He says quietly, and I put the food down. 

"I'm sorry too." I tell him. "I shouldn't have called you a coward. You were only trying to protect us and your family." He laughs ruefully and shakes his head.

"No, you're right. I am a coward. But I'm not going to let myself stay that way." He sighs and turns to look at me. 

"I'm sorry for wanting to keep it a secret. This is one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I want people to know. Fuck the war, fuck everything. You're right. And I'm sorry for being scared, but I'm not anymore." He doesn't take his eyes off me the entire time he speaks, as if he wants to make sure I know he's telling the truth. I do. I believe him.

I grin at him, my heart fluttering. "Baz, I… You know… Thank you for…" I give up and just kiss him instead, sweet and slow. He melts beneath my fingertips, and I realise how relieved I am that he's back, and how happy I am that he doesn't want to keep it a secret. I pull him close to me, hugging him hard and burying my face in his neck.

"Thank you," I mumble, and he just pulls me closer.

"Tomorrow, we're going to hold hands all the way to breakfast, and when we get there I'm going to kiss you in front of everyone. I'll butter your scones for you and pretend that I don't find it gross when you smile at me with your mouth full. We'll hold hands on the way to class, and I'll kiss you good bye every time we have a different class." I smile.  
"Baz, you don't have to-"  
"Shhh, I'm not done." He says, and I chuckle.  
"We'll eat every meal together, with Bunce and Wellbelove of course, and study together if you like. I can help you work on some spells. And on weekends, we'll hang out and just be normal boyfriends." 

I sit back to look at him, grinning.  
"That's what you want?" I ask him. I need to be sure.  
"That's what I want." He confirms, and smiles. 

"I'm glad," I say, and kiss him gently, cupping his jaw. I'm so unbelievably happy that I feel as though it's going to over flow and spill out of me.  
This is how it's supposed to be.  
This feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super pleased with this chapter... Constructive criticism is welcome! 
> 
> Thank you to every one who left kudos and comments, it means a lot
> 
> Thanks for reading


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